


Messenger of God

by kantokraze



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Suicidal Thoughts, Symbiotic Relationship, suicide ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:20:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29508903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kantokraze/pseuds/kantokraze
Summary: Angie Yonaga was born to die.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	Messenger of God

She was adorned with a gift from birth. At the beginning of her life, she was treated as such, a child of God. A messenger of God. Each word that spilled from her lips was to be revered, written, and trusted. She could tell no lies, they thought, their knees sullied with dirt from their incessant begging, their constant prayers; their voices strained from their rallied cries and resounding cheers.

Her feet would rarely touch the ground, for such a vessel of a divine being shouldn’t be bothered with mundane tasks. There was no time for play, when you had to listen to every voice who cried for change, for mercy, and those who begged for forgiveness. Death was inevitable for all people, including Angie, but that wasn’t something she liked to think about.

That while she was busy listening to the prayers of others, He was considering who would be his vessel after she was dead and gone. How she would be told to kill herself when her mind was too weak, her body too frail to complete even the simplest of tasks— no, she would not die an old woman. She was not allowed to live a full life, not allowed to frolic with the other children, nor was she allowed to love them as freely as they loved her. She would never be allowed to have a family of her own or even grow old; she would never be allowed to live as the other children did. 

“When Angie’s sands have sifted, she will leave peacefully. The roaring waters will take Angie far away from our island, and carry her to the depths of the sea.” She had practiced many times, reciting her lines with a small smile, piercing blue eyes swimming with emotion. She had hidden her fear just as well, as you are expected to do when you are a vessel of God.

Sometimes, she would stand by the cliffside, watching the waves crash over the jagged rocks below. Angie would listen to the birds cry overhead, unaware that they were a comforting background music to her fear of death. How would the ocean feel when she was taken? 

The waters had served as a comfort to her in the past, fleeting moments of the chill of the saltwater between her toes, the sun beaming down on her face, and the wind whipping her hair behind her back. In the moments of her death, they would serve as a projection of her fear and uncertainty, she decided.

The water would feel icy as it entered her lungs, the moon would not bear to greet her, save for its reflection on the water as she would scramble to reach for the surface. The winds would howl and cry in anguish as she would sink, farther and farther below the comfort of her home. 

“All vessels die in this way,” her mother had said to her in comfort, days before she had been sacrificed, “It is an honor to die to God in this way.” She could feel her hands still pulling strands of hair from her back, pulling segments into loose braids and placing the decorum into her hair. 

“Angie wishes you would take her in her sleep,” She whispered to herself, feeling his clutches envelop her brain with thoughts that were not her own. “Angie knows that you won’t.” She reassures Him, turning her attention back towards the sea. 

Her prayers would go unanswered.

Her life would go unlived, as she would be forced to remain until He had finished using her. 

She felt the wind continue to lull her back to the ocean, but her feet remained planted in the grasses of the island. 

Life is my gift to you. He had murmured to her before.

She could not find herself in agreement.


End file.
